


death's circus.

by nonbinarybabadook



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Other, circus AU, little bit of a night circus au, they're queer platonic partners
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 18:08:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16351550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonbinarybabadook/pseuds/nonbinarybabadook
Summary: soul evans has fled from the life he's known to join the elusive and wondrous circus hosted by death himself! his chances of getting in are low until acrobat maka albarn chooses him as her partner.





	death's circus.

**Author's Note:**

> my maka looks like this: https://66.media.tumblr.com/4014ee4852813a5c95968868594361a6/tumblr_inline_pgmic8WyyS1v6ti6r_1280.jpg

if there was one word to describe maka albarn, it would be _ethereal_. otherworldly. she walks like she could sprout wings at any time and disappear into the clouds with no warning or goodbye.

it was almost like she belonged in a place for freaks.

with silver hair, red eyes and brown skin, she certainly wasn’t your average girl. adding her skill set, she could never be mistaken for one.

contacts were a requirement for each of her performances, as the red irises were too distracting and unnerving for someone with so much attention pointed at her. she wasn’t just an acrobat, she was the tightrope walker, the girl who took all of the risks and always came out on the other side with a wicked grin on her face. her unusual beauty had to be made specific, so bright blue contacts had become part of her daily routine, put in at the last possible moment, always saying a sad goodbye to her natural crimson.

everyone said maka practically belongs on a stage or with a circus. she’d never known anything else. she’d insisted upon pushing her body as far as it could go since she was three, joining gymnastics and quickly rising to the top of her class. joining different combat sports, moving on when she learned as much as she could from each one. she learned knife and ax throwing young, as well, biting into her father’s skill set and only letting go when he agreed to teach her.

maka had unknowingly spent her sixteen years becoming something that was beautiful and terrifying.

soul evans, by comparison, wasn’t much at first glance. the lord of the circus was very particular about who was allowed within, who could perform in the act that was his pride and joy. the only thing that kept him in the middle of the ring with the lord was the similarities between maka and him. his hair was white, instead of silver, but their eyes were practically mirror images. and, well, his teeth. sharpened to points, alarming from the moment he opened his moment to speak. he certainly qualified as a freak.

but they weren’t impressed enough with his knowledge of weapons, his ability to hit any target in the center, and technique. _we already have a weapons master,_ the lord had begun explaining with only an ounce of apology in his voice.

maka’s father, spirit, also known as the weapons master, had been called to provide an example of his skill, and to test if this soul eater could keep up. no one expected maka to accompany him, even though she perched in the shadows on one of the wooden beams building a make-shift ceiling, silent and watching.

soul’s appearance had, obviously, spiked her interest. she’d never seen someone who appeared to have white hair naturally at his age. even from her distance, she could see his red eyes. her curiosity almost drew her out of the dark corner, but she remained still, biting down on her instinct to investigate so she could gather knowledge that she wouldn’t have to ask for.

there were several other obvious things about soul. he’d grown up in luxury, rich. from a good family. he had piano fingers. he hadn’t grown into his full height, yet.

he was a runaway. it was the first thing maka noticed, directly after his appearance. runaways were always too jumpy, uncomfortable with their skills in a way someone who hadn’t ever had to properly show off before was. he wasn’t a natural, circus wise. not as much of a performer as he should have been to be in an act such as theirs. he’d run from money to throw himself at the feet of a circus master, to join a world that wasn’t as kind and fabulous as it looked. especially with what lurked in the circus’ other purpose.

' just give me a chance, ‘ maka heard from soul, who was fighting to stay calm and collected. maka wasn’t sure if only she could hear the undertone of panic in his voice, or if it was just that obvious. everyone said maka had an unique ability to read people. some had suggested she dip her toes into the tarot business, or the mystical arts in general. it hadn’t been a passion, but she’d learned how to read people’s hearts and souls. 

‘ why should we? ‘ the lord asked, hands invisible in his odd cloak.

‘ because i’ll work harder than anyone you have. ‘ 

that earned a chuckle from spirit and the lord, obviously unimpressed and unconvinced. ‘ hard work is a requirement, not something you can compete in. besides, our requirements might be too advanced for you, ‘ spirit drawls, the image of lazy confidence, hands in his pockets accompanied with a small, slightly smug smile. 

‘ he might, ‘ the lord replies, tilting his head to look closely at soul. it’s a simple thing for maka now, switching her view of the world from seeing normal bodies to seeing the souls within. she sees what the lord sees. a small sound of surprise escapes maka - quiet enough that none of the boys hear her - as her interest spikes. 

‘ show us your real talent, soul. ‘ 

his surprise takes over his body, shoulders tightening and legs automatically preparing to run. he’d heard that the circus takes all kinds of people, the kind of people who can’t find a home anywhere, the kind of people that would be feared among normal people. the kind of people he'd seen in the show from a distance. people like him.

‘ i don’t know what you’re talking about, ‘ soul says defensively, taking a cautious step back as he stumbles over his words. 

‘ it’s alright. we know what you are. you don’t have to be afraid. ‘ 

maka resists an amused snort. she thinks the lord doesn’t realize that sounds exactly like something to be afraid of. 

as if realizing this, the lord turns to the man on his left, ' spirit, if you would? ' and with a nod, a blade explodes out of spirit's back, curving above his head and gleaming in the light. soul looks like his eyes are going to jump out of his skull as he extends his arm in shock, bone replaced by a red and black blade. 

‘ now you see our hesitation in considering you for an act. we already have a weapons master, and there’s no one to work with you. spirit can function as an act by himself, but you have no experience, and no partner. i’m afraid we’ll have to send you on your wa — ‘ 

‘ i’ll work with him. ‘ 

three sets of eyes focus on maka as she gracefully steps off the beam, landing with only a slight bend of her knees. dressed like a ballerina, her hair’s swept up in a bun, clothed in white that matches the contacts she wore for her last act that make her face look more unsettling than usual. sparing a glance to the surprised faces of the lord and her father before looking back at soul, she smiles when his expression tightens and tries to fall into a casual apathy. 

‘ now, maka, you already have your own act — ‘ 

‘ he can be easily incorporated. and i have a few ideas for additions. can you fully transform? ‘ she asks soul, indicating his arm, which shifted back to human form the moment maka emerged from the shadows. he nods, and maka’s eyebrows jump, as if asking _what are you waiting for?_

in a slice of light, soul’s body disappears, a spinning scythe replacing him. easily, maka reaches out, grasps his hilt and spins him with the same momentum, careful to not slice her tutu as she moves him around her back, then using one hand to keep him from losing momentum above her head. slamming the end of his hilt against the ground, maka’s pleased that their souls had aligned in only a few seconds. throwing him back in the air, maka laces her fingers together behind her back, a casual delight settling on her face as he turns back to a human, staring at her, stunned. 

‘ any objections? ‘ maka asks, knowing full well that she’d taken over the conversation within a minute of revealing herself. her father looks like he wants to protest, even going so far as raising a hand and opening his mouth, but the lord speaks before he can. 

‘ i don’t see why not. tell me when you have your act put together. ‘ 

‘ thank you, lord death. ‘ 

maka stays still until they’ve left, before turning to soul, who’s still staring at her as if she’s a creature he’s never seen before. ‘ what — how did you? how did you know? ‘ 

‘ i can see souls, like death did. from then, it was more of a hunch. ‘ 

‘ so — what are you? ‘ 

an eyebrow quirks, amused. ‘ in terms of the circus? i’m a bit of everything. in the other terms? a meister. i’ve worked with my father, the man you just met, but our souls don't really align. ‘ 

‘ and you think ours can? ‘ 

‘ you don’t? ‘ 

‘ no, it’s not that — i’m just — ‘ 

‘ it’s a lot? ‘ 

he pauses, surprised, again, as his shoulders lose all of their tension. ‘ yeah. ‘ 

‘ that’s okay, ‘ she says cheerfully, hands rising to take out one of her white contacts, revealing the red irises underneath, ‘ there’s always tomorrow. i’ll show you to your room. ‘ 

maka turns on her toes, walking briskly to the part of the tent that’s for the performers only, leaving soul behind for a few moments to simply stare after her with another bolt of shock slicing through him before running after her.


End file.
